


What Lurks Beyond

by dreaminglestrade



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Monsters, Other, Supernatural - Freeform, stardew valley gothic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-06-23 12:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19701370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminglestrade/pseuds/dreaminglestrade
Summary: A collection of drabbles regarding all the weird events and details of Pelican Town.Normal problems are pushed to the backburner when Farmer Eve finds herself in a valley where the sky groans, treasures pave the roads, and monsters skulk just out of sight.





	1. Buried Goods

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to my beta, rumpixel (whose work is also on AO3 and should be absorbed immediately). Not only did she proofread this for me, but along with several other friends, she encouraged me to write it at all. To all of you who were so delightfully welcoming in the replies of my first story, thank you for giving me a community where I feel comfortable enough to post my work.
> 
> This story will cover a number of strange elements from the Stardew Valley game. I have a few of them planned already, however if there are any pieces, myths, or bits of lore you'd like me to touch upon, please feel free to reply with them at the bottom. I am absolutely open to that. Tags will be added as they come up.
> 
> Probably no relationship focuses on this one, though there may be occasional Farmer/Shane and/or others throughout. Hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

“Worms find everything. Lost a watch down by the beach- found it at my door a month later. Three of them, all curled round it in the dirt.”

Gunther had said it with a shrug and Eve had originally filed it back in her archive of inane conversations. She wasn’t so new to farming that she believed everything someone told her about the ground. She wasn’t that much of a city girl.

Still, her hands had hovered over the wiggling tails of burrowing earthworms for days after. And then, with an accidental jab at her crops one day, she’d dug her hoe straight through the topsoil, cleaving the things in two. 

She’d yelped at that, an ugly squeak eeking out of her throat.

_'You’re an excellent farmer, Eve. Scared of a bit of slime?'_

But the tool came out clean, the worms seemingly never there to begin with. Then, from beneath crumbs of stone and clay, she procured of all things, a wooden chicken.

*

It had very possibly been just a stroke of luck. Coincidence that matched up with myth. Eve knew how dangerous superstition could be.

But with that planted firmly in her mind, she’d hacked at every inch of wiggling dirt she could find. She was just clearing the field, turning it over, keeping it fresh. Not following a wild idea some scholarly recluse had planted in her head. Not digging her hands into each hole like a magpie after a shiny piece of jewelry.

She was smarter than that.

But the ground often proved her wrong.

Each new discovery became an addition to her pile of treasures. Instruments and tools, a fan detailed in ink as delicate as flower stems, a glittering hoop of gold affixed with a blue bead that almost pulsed.

It was hard to pass them onto the museum sometimes. There were nights when she’d retire to her cabin and pore for hours over her hoard, wondering if maybe Gunther didn’t need any of it, if maybe the former curator had been right on the money when he skipped town with his riches.

When morning came, she would find it again, the will to keep her promise and hand over what she’d found. But each donated item felt more like a sacrifice and in quiet moments, she’d spin a ring around the knuckle of her middle finger. She’d drag a hand down a yellowing page of parchment and imagine that the scrawled words were only meant for her.

*

Later, after she’d mastered the strange art of tugging something beautiful and glittering or ancient and mysterious out of the earth, it became almost habit. It was just another Saturday when she pulled the strange golden slab out from behind Sam’s house. Eve watched the symbols flash back at her for a long moment. Her stomach fluttered with the same combination of fear and captivation that she’d grown used to since moving to the valley.

Yet it wasn’t the glittering artifact in the ground that surprised her then. It was the very human chirp of excitement from behind her.

With a jerk, she turned and stumbled straight into Abigail. Her hands pressed the slab into her shirt as if she were keeping a child from danger.

“What were they hiding this time? Can I see?”

Eve blinked, her mind warring with the idea that someone else knew about the worms, knew about the gold mine right beneath their feet.

This time. Because Abigail knew this kind of thing just happened- that people just pulled relics of old out of the ground on a regular basis. That invertebrates always gifted curious people with daily valuables.

_‘But they gave it to me. You didn’t find it, I did.’_

Almost timidly, Eve held out her prized find; Abigail responded without a moment of hesitance, heaving the slab from her hands and hunching over it with rapt fervor. It seemed for a moment that she was a purple-haired reincarnation of Sherlock Holmes. The thought pulled at the corner of Eve’s lips and the air seemed to slip back into her lungs. She took a small step back, waiting.

“You ever show these to Gunther? Bet he’d have a field day.”

“Most of the time.” Minus the large, wiggling egg sitting in the incubator of her chicken coop. Minus the ring. Minus the books.

Abigail’s eyes moved purposely back from the slab to Eve’s face with an almost predatory expression. She looked strangely pleased by her response and Eve shifted her feet, turning her attention down the path leading towards the library. Her fingers itched.

“May I have that back?”

_‘Give it back.’_

“Can I help you look?”

That was unexpected. The request drew her a little farther away from the self-conversation in her head and Eve considered the woman for a moment. It almost sounded like a self-invite, but really, when it came to Abigail, she couldn’t blame her. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to recognize how bored the girl was. Pierre seemed to keep a short leash on his daughter and the tighter he wound it, the harder she pulled.

There had been a few times she’d seen it. Just the night before, she’d run into her after a long trek through the mines. Abigail had teased her for just a moment- “We missed you, Sebastian killed at pool,”- but she’d caught the longing glance across the sword at her back. Eve wondered if she’d ever felt that rush of adrenaline slicing through a slime- if her father had ever lost track of her enough to allow her that far.

“Please.”

Oh Yoba, she was pleading now. A strange defensive growl tore up Eve’s throat; she realized with a start that she’d never felt so wildly aggressive at someone’s simple suggestion of spending time together. She’d never particularly gravitated towards social situations, but she’d never fought them quite so hard as she wanted to in that moment.

It was unsettling.

“Eve?”

Oh. Conversation generally required two people, didn’t it?

“Sure. Extra set of eyes can’t hurt.” The words slipped out before she could stop them and Abigail’s face lit up so brightly that an ache pulsed through Eve’s chest. A rush of air forced its way back into her lungs. Without realizing it, Eve was curling her hands around the slab again, tugging it free of Abigail’s grip. Reality seemed to drift. A whisper of air glided over her shoulders.

This felt better, the object warm and solid against the calluses on her palms. The tension in Eve’s shoulders seemed to bleed away and her head buzzed with approval.

But the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, barking what felt strangely like a warning.

She blinked, taking a slow breath. Abigail.

It was rare that she enjoyed company, but some part of her suggested that a friend might be a good idea at this point. That maybe the soaring relief in her head had less to do with her and more to do with the humming object in her hands.

Right. Safety in numbers.

“Come on then. You ever been to the mines?”


	2. Downpour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visitor shows up and the clouds turn dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all the lovely replies and friends that encouraged me to continue this.

Eve had never been overly fond of her neighbors.

Or rather, she had never been overly fond of the amount of time a neighbor seemed to require. The facade of everyday greetings, the introductions, the mandatory nods of recognition, the exchange of baked goods (that she’d rather just eat herself), the regular updates- it was all too invasive for her and took far too much energy to justify actually attempting familiarity.

It had been easy in the city. No one knew their neighbors when they lived in an apartment the size of a closet; no one wanted to. They all went along with their lives in blissful negligence of that particular social construct.

Eve had thought it would be just as easy in Pelican Town. But it didn’t matter if she was ten minutes down the road, or a step down the hall. It didn’t matter Robin was all the way up the mountain and Marnie was all the way down the hill. Jodi knew Caroline, Vincent knew Jas, Pam knew Gus, and so on and so forth until everyone knew everyone. She herself was expected to engage and with her grandfather’s reputation, she was expected to do it well.

While all the attention and back-bending was an appreciated gesture, it made Eve itch. The twisted knot of communication provided a solid foundation, but it felt more to her like a mosh pit. A never-ceasing, always roaring mosh pit. She could never find a moment to herself the second she chose to step into town.

Sometimes, in between conversations and being swept over to yet another fresh face, she would spot Sebastian, ducking back between houses, or Shane, slouching just enough to appear unapproachable. In those moments, she wondered if there were certain people who just didn’t fit in a community. She wondered if she was one of them.

“Miss O'Connolly.”

With a stifled gasp, Eve straightened up immediately. She spun in the direction of the voice and the hose in her hand spat a stream of water right across-

Ah. Wizard.

“Rasmodius! Oh shi- shoot, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone! I didn’t know you were dropping b-” Eve had rushed forward, her usual requirement of space forgotten. Heat rushed into her cheeks and she reached out towards the man, her hand plunging into his cloak with the idea of patting it dry- to find it was entirely dry.

“Oh.” She stepped back again, gesturing towards him and wishing she could sink into the ground. “You… seem fine. You’re fine.”

“Shielding spell. Rain today.” 

Was it? Had the forecast said that? The idea of Rasmodius sitting in front of a television, nodding at the screen and summoning a spell was so strange that she nearly laughed. It still seemed impossible that the man was anything but a figment of her imagination. Wizards didn’t exist outside of legends and fairy tales. They didn’t fit into a tiny town in the middle of nowhere.

It seemed that was becoming a trend.

“You haven’t dropped by.”

Eve glanced back up at Rasmodius and the blush in her cheeks rose to her ears.

“I... don’t really do that.” Her voice was quiet. Her visitor’s eyes bore into her and she shifted her feet nervously. She wished he’d just say what he’d come for. It was so like a wizard to take the long way round.

“You wanted to talk?” Eve dragged a hand across her jeans to peel off a splash of mud and nodded up at him. As she moved onto her boots, a familiar peep blossomed from behind a trellis of green beans. A small, twittering green Junimo bounced across the soil over to her. A strange fondness rose up into Eve’s chest and she offered her fingers down to the creature. With a sound like a chime, it drew stick-like arms up to her gloves as if to inspect her fingers.

“They like you.” Rasmodius’s voice seemed to turn over the earth beneath their feet, but Eve smiled, pride bursting into her throat. Was the almighty sorcerer complimenting her?

“But I believe you may be in over your head.”

The pleased feeling in her chest dropped back down sharply and the junimo responded in kind, chattering up at the man as if to admonish him for the change in her attitude.

“Thank you, Ras, I haven’t been worried about that already.”

It was Rasmodius’s turn to shift and backtrack; his lips thinned into a line and he shook his head as if to dismiss her again. With a frustrated sigh, Eve turned back to her plants and picked the hose up off of the ground.

“You misunderstand me. This place isn’t like where you come from.”

His words dug into her like thorns and she paused, looping the hose around her hand as she tried to squash the sting in her chest.

“You’re not helping.”

“And you’re being defensive.”

Bristling, Eve looked over her shoulder at the man, her eyes blazing. She’d avoided him for a number of reasons since they’d met in his tower. He was not what she’d expected to find when she moved to the farm, when she’d stepped into the abandoned building that was the community center. He smelled of cedar and smoke and appeared almost at random to badger her with strange stories and enigmatic warnings. He was proud, so bloody proud of what was probably hard-won knowledge.

Rasmodius had made it clear enough already that Pelican Town was not as simple as she’d hoped.

“Of course I’m being defensive. We hardly know one another and, suddenly, you’re on my land, in my face, telling me I am out of my element.” She paused again, this time relishing in the awkward silence hanging between them.

Yet to his credit, Rasmodius held his ground. After a moment, his chin rose just slightly, much like her father’s did during an argument. His hands hung loose, confident and still as he took a deep breath. The air around them seemed to vibrate and with a trill, the Junimo disappeared back behind the trellis. Her nerves sung beneath her skin and she looked up towards the clouds as a fresh headache pounded against her brow.

With a deep sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose. Interesting tactic.

“Calm down and stop that. I’m listening.”

The invisible grasp on the back of her neck seemed to loosen and the air eased back into her lungs as if she’d simply forgotten to breathe. Typical wizard. Couldn’t handle an argument without involving the arcana.

“There are dangers here. I thought you should be aware.”

“Slimes? Those weird little treasures I’ve found in the ground? I’m aware-”

He seemed caught between amusement and frustration at her reply and she pressed her lips together. She’d said she’d listen. He was trying to help.

“The Junimos like you, but they aren’t here to make enemies. You will not find that a commonality in the Valley.” Discomfort whispered over Eve’s shoulders and she idled with the hose nozzle, forcing her attention away from the wizard’s gaze.

“It’s dangerous.”

“I didn’t move here to stay scared, Rasmodius.”

She was so tired of being scared.

Eve looked up at him and was surprised to find his expression unsure. The man opened his mouth as if to say something, but after a moment of consideration, closed it again. His eyes searched her face, her shoulders, her hands, her feet. Normally, she would have told him off, used to the common occurrence of strangers roving their eyes down over her body, but with Rasmodius, the action seemed for a different reason than simple pleasure.

After a moment, he seemed satisfied with what he’d found and the silence stretched back into comfortable noiselessness. Raising his chin again, he nodded in the direction of his tower.

“Then you know where to find me, should you need aid.”

She blinked and found she was alone again.

“Storm tonight. Stay inside,” the trees whispered in the gravelly tones of a passing wizard.

***

_Leave it to Rasmodius to correctly predict the weather._

A crash of thunder rattled the windows around her and Eve frowned. Water dripped through her fingers as she paused and with a frustrated groan, she hauled another plank of wood up over the hole in her roof. Served her right for turning down Robin’s offer. The woman had been foaming at the mouth to fix up the old cabin since she’d moved in.

“-flash flood warning until noon tomorr-” The picture on her television flickered and jumped. Something electric tore through the air and for a moment, it felt like she had gone deaf. The sky crackled and energy danced across her skin; the hair on the back of Eve’s neck bristled.

She had never been able to decide if she loved the feeling of a storm or feared it. There was something fascinating about what the sky alone could deal out, something terrifying about the damage it could cause.

The world came roaring back with an ear-splitting bang, and then, every light in the house went dark. The television screen sat silent and black.

“Damn.” She’d hoped the electricity would hold up at the very least. She’d be bothering Robin by morning.

Soon after moving in, Eve had discovered a small lantern in her bedroom. It had seemed useless at the time, an archaic alternative to a flashlight, but now she was grateful for it. Feeling her way down the hall, she turned into her room as another white-hot line shot towards the ground outside her window.

A low, anguished warble rippled through the dark and Eve stopped mid-stride. The sound seemed to come from outside, around and above her, and for a sheer second, she wondered if thunder sounded different in the valley.

But this was a _voice_. A trembling, mournful moan borne from lungs, not clouds.

Cold terror rolled down over Eve’s spine and her eyes drifted towards the ceiling. She half-expected to find some twisted animal blinking down at her, its jagged teeth poking over its mouth in a gruesome snarl. There was nothing there, nothing she could see at least, but the echoing howl trembled again from above her.

_“There are dangers here.”_

The wizard’s words came back to her and with a low growl of her own, Eve shook her head. She was hearing things, afraid of a little rain. There was no wailing monster in the sky and she wasn’t going to cower inside her own home in the bloody dark.

Striking a match, she moved towards the door. The breaker was right outside. She’d be in and out and safe again from whatever it was she thought she was hearing. As her lantern caught light, she pulled her raincoat over her shoulders and strode outside into the storm.

Rain spat across her knuckles as Eve marched through water up to her ankles. She paused for just a moment, looking mournfully over the rows of parsnips, cauliflower, and potatoes she had barely laid out two days before. If the storm kept up much longer, she’d have to dig up their drowned remains. She was just getting started- how did real farmers stave off Mother Nature long enough to make anything of themselves?

A quivering rumble from above forced Eve’s feet forward again and she swallowed hard- she’d figure it out. First things first. Light.

Stopping beside the plastic box nestled into the corner of her fence, Eve felt a nervous buzz of energy whisk up the back of her neck. This wasn’t a new situation for her. Years before, Joja’s office had gone down in a blackout. She’d drawn the short straw and ended up in the basement huddling over a knot of wires, listening to maintenance droning on in her ear about why it was “completely safe” and how it was “highly unlikely she’d be electrocuted”.

Still, standing in ankle-deep water next to an electrical box in a storm didn’t seem like the smartest move of her life.

Pulling the box cover free, Eve lifted the lantern to see better and was rewarded with a startling number of switches. Right, right, left, right- Yoba, she wasn’t an electrician.

The moan pulsed from the sky, louder now, as if agreeing she was incapable. Her head snapped up towards the clouds and she bared her teeth, frustrated.

“Oh, shut up, _I’m thinking!_ ”

It answered in the form of a lightning bolt. A tree burst into flames barely a hundred feet away and the sound of branches twisting and breaking crackled into the air. Eve took several steps back, her breath caught in her throat.

And then she saw it.

A solitary figure, tall and dark, stood before the flames. It watched the fire for a moment, seeming almost proud, then slowly, with movements too fluid to match a human’s, turned to look at Eve.

Her limbs seemed to freeze. Ice coursed down her veins, the raindrops on her face turned to sweat. The creature’s face was shadowed and its arms swung on each side, fingers as long as branches sharpened to points. Eve could feel its eyes on her, though she couldn’t make out their placement on its head. It was thinking, calculating.

_Move._

Eve’s feet ached but remained bolted to the ground, her legs locked. Her axe came abruptly to her mind for a reason she’d never considered before. In the house. Everything was in the house. Safety was in the house.

It screeched then, sharp, angry fangs extended from a mouth she couldn’t see, and that’s all it took to send a shock through Eve’s system.

_MOVE!_

She bolted for the house, her feet splashing through the water loud and clumsy. She could hear it rounding the house behind her, feel it breathing down her neck, digging its claws into her skin. Rain pounded down into her clothes; limbs thundered across the ground behind her.

With a desperate gasp, Eve grabbed for the stair railing and threw herself onto the steps, waiting for the moment her legs gave out, waiting for the second she stumbled and it dragged her back into the water, back into the woods.

Her hand yanked at the chair on her porch and without looking, she tossed it behind her. A screech erupted behind her, but there was a thump too, a blessed moment of angry sputtering-

She dove inside the door and slammed it shut. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears, her breath rattling up her throat as she gasped for air. Her hands pressed hard against the door and she swore. Nails and claws and whatever godforsaken power it had, she couldn’t possibly keep it shut if the thing even tried to push it open.

But it had stopped.

Peeking just over the door window, her heart in her throat, Eve could see it. The creature had stopped short of her door and was pacing, chattering through its teeth at her. Angry and hungry and _forbidden_.

It turned towards her again, roaring and spitting, but moved no closer to the door. 

Slowly, wondering if it might be her last decision in her life, Eve turned the lock on the doorknob, then lifted her palms from the wood.

It let out another growl, almost tired, almost resigned now, and receded to the steps.

The sky moaned again, sad and haunted. A warning.

“Storm tonight.”


	3. Silly Spooks Sit By Her Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *HALLOWEEN SPECIAL* She should be used to spooky surprises by now. But Spirit's Eve never disappoints.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “When the spooks have a midnight jamboree, they break it up with fiendish glee” ~The Legend of Sleepy Hollow
> 
> Happy Halloween, everyone.

It was a bad time to fall sick. The last two seasons of the year made the common cold feel like the plague and with holidays popping up left and right, no one wanted to risk even a sniffle.

As such, Jodi had demanded a leaking Sam stay inside for Spirit’s Eve that year. And after shoving every last bit of garlic and mushrooms she had at her friend, Eve had reemerged to a living room in chaos. Vincent’s sobs were tremendous, blocking out Jodi’s desperate insistence that there would always be next year. It was true- celebrations would always come around again, but to a child, a whole year was a lifetime. Vincent had been inconsolable.

Eve had never been good with crying kids. Her inability to say no had meant many a family reunion buried beneath every cousin under the age of seven.

By Vincent’s third wail, Eve had assured Jodi she had nothing to do anyway and why not, trick-or-treating didn’t take _that_ long. Ten minutes later and she was headed for Emily’s, a beaming little boy skipping along beside her.

*

For what it was worth, Pelican Town made up for its small size in mounds of candy.

Jodi had briefed her as Vincent was barreling out the door that her son hit his sugar limit very quickly.

 _“It never ends well. We don’t get a wink of sleep, any of us, then he’s passed out cold the next day.”_ Knowing Vincent, it was almost inevitable, but Eve kept his candy bag wrapped tightly around her wrist, just in case. Penny had told her in confidence once that Vincent didn’t seem to like school, didn’t seem to gel with the assignments or care for grades. But judging by his ability in the past five minutes to talk his way into another gummy, Eve was pretty sure the kid would be just fine. You could do a lot with a pair of doe eyes. Poor Jodi.

It didn’t take long to walk the expanse of the town and even with so few neighbors, Vincent’s bag was fit to burst before the end. 

They idled at the library as Vincent peered up at it, his eyes welling up with concern. Gunther had done a marvelous job with it, covering the columns and roof with spider webs she would have sworn were real. Lights glinted in the window, faint and almost eerie, and Eve opened her mouth to ask Vincent if he was up for it.

Before she could get the words, a shout rose up from the tree nearby and a very defiant Jas stepped out from behind the branches. She was draped in bright purple, a perfect match with her hair, and brandished a broomstick in her right hand.

“Begone, foul creature. These are _my_ woods!”

Vincent dove forward, his eyes alight, and Jas shook her hands at him as if to cast a spell.

With a grin, Eve withdrew. Let them play a little- Yoba, she missed the wild adventures of childhood, when she could dream up a goblin and trust it wasn’t real enough to hurt her.

A strong wind picked up as she leaned against the stone exterior of Clint’s shop and a shiver jerked down her spine. It hadn’t been a bad night in terms of weather, cool but not quite cold, but the stone at her back was freezing and the air nipping over her skin made her bones ache.

Her gaze drifted from Vincent to the small tufts of grass nearby, their leaves hissing together against the wind as if they were trying to huddle together for warmth. The spiderwebs atop the library shifted, stiff and pinned down enough to stay put, but still whispering at the sudden breeze. A white sheet haphazardly draped across the fence whipped about, a somewhat poor representation of a ghost.

“Oh, you’re still here!” Clint emerged from the door to her left and Eve shifted her feet nervously. She had no personal vendetta against Clint- the man was a little frustrating when it came to wooing women, but he and Eve managed to co-exist just fine. Still, she never had been very good with small talk, especially with a man who was clearly unhappy with his lot in life.

“Clint. Sorry, they were just playing.” Eve fiddled with a fraying piece of yarn at the bottom of her sweater before clearing her throat. She pointed apologetically towards the ghost prop.

“Nice decorations.”

“What?” Clint glanced in the direction her finger pointed, looking more perplexed than usual. “I don’t decorate.” He looked back at her, caught somewhere between amusement and concern, before clapping her on the shoulder. 

“Does Gus have the ale out then? Don’t have too much, I hear it’s pretty strong.” With a shrug towards town, Clint ambled his way out of the yard.

After he disappeared down the path, Eve turned back to the fence, her teeth aching and her heart in her throat. The sheet was gone, and in its place, a pale, white shape fluttered its way around the corner.

*

Jodi had hauled off Vincent shortly after the festival in town began. For what it was worth, Eve was proud she didn’t have to drag him. Despite a few whines and “Mooooom”s, Vincent had relented fairly easily and for that, Eve was grateful.

They’d been in no danger. It was just a sheet- some spare bit of laundry yanked off the wire to tug at her overactive imagination.

Maybe it was Gunther’s.

Maybe it was a prank. Spirit’s Eve, easy setting to scare the living daylights out of the town farmer.

It didn’t matter what her counterargument was. She knew what it had been.

By the sudden cold, the sharp wind on a perfectly comfortable night, the way her limbs had filled to the brim with ice, she knew what it had been.

By the low, curious moan drifting into her ears, she knew what it had been.

Eve mingled fairly well, despite her nerves. It helped for once, to have someone to listen to, to distract her from her own frantic thoughts. One by one, each person had acknowledged her presence, whether it was a wave or a direct greeting, or Shane, with his regular, silent toast.

But she couldn’t sit still, and after about half an hour of picking at a nearly untouched plate of food, Eve had resigned herself to wandering about for the rest of the evening.

She couldn’t go home, not with this on her mind, forcing other memories of moaning specters fresh up from her time in the mines. Those had felt different- “those”, oh Yoba, she really was convinced, wasn’t she? They dripped in her subconscious, reached with yearning hands and gaping mouths. She’d never been able to get them to dissipate completely, opting instead for running straight for the ladder or driving her sword through its middle just long enough for them to reappear elsewhere.

This one… lingered. But the chill in her blood and the ache in her bones was an afterthought, a sigh to be accepted till it fluttered off again.

Because it did that, flitting around the town and the party and back again every few minutes.

“It won’t eat you. Not this one.”

Marlon’s rumbling brogue broke through Eve’s thoughts and she had to clench her fists inside her pockets to keep from jumping.

Did he feel it too? Was it that real? Why here, why tonight-

She didn’t feel like talking about it.

“I’m not sure I approve of these.” Without looking at him, Eve nodded to the cage before them and the ambling skeletons within.

Almost in response, a low growl squeezed its way through the bars of the cage. Eve could swear she heard their teeth creaking with age. Bones clicking as they moved, a quiet rage seething beneath the surface. The one closest to her bobbed on its feet, as if an invisible leash was keeping it from lunging at her.

She could focus on skeletons. They weren’t ghosts. They weren’t infallible, eternal. Battered to dust, they were easily outmaneuvered, once one got over the shock of them existing at all.

But it wasn’t safe, exposing the citizens of Pelican Town to dangerous creatures masquerading as props. The bars were a nice touch, and possibly enough of a defensive measure, but they wouldn’t keep Sebastian from slipping a hand through, couldn’t keep Jas or Abigail from daydreaming of wandering into a dark cavern full of monsters.

Despite her reprimand, Marlon’s chin rose just a half inch higher. She recognized that stance. He carried it every time she caught he and Gil reminiscing over past dangers.

“...you think if they wanted to, they couldn’t get out like your friend?”

He nodded towards a table, his hand hovering over his belt where his sword might have hung years before. Eve’s eyes drifted right and she caught the glitter of translucent cloth before the ghost disappeared again. No one moved from their seats, no one shouted. Not a single shiver rippled down any of their spines. A rolling chortle bubbled up into the air as Gus wondered aloud about the quality of his pumpkin pie.

“They can’t see him?”

“They don’t go wandering around in the dark, lass. You’re familiar now. Call it a feeling- I think they seek you out.”

“They like fools that much?”

There it was, that groan of a laugh that made her feel so proud and so small, all at the same time.

“They like _company_. Must get lonely down there, bein’ dead and all.” Marlon raised his eyebrows and she felt the whisper of cold air reappear at her back.

“It likes you. They’re not all bad. Just lost.”

He turned and Eve recognized the end of a conversation well enough. Marlon liked telling stories, whether they were true or not, but he was honest enough that he didn’t tease her with false theories. And when the man shut his mouth, it was unlikely that the conversation would start again. He locked his doors tight.

Beside her, something shifted and she sighed. Cool air rippled over her knuckles, almost as if someone was dragging silk across the back of her hands.

Spirits. Great reason for a celebration, if they’d just stayed imaginary. Still. In her time in the valley, she’d learned to stop fighting the surprises so hard. 

Of all the secrets Pelican Town liked to bury, she was willing to let this one stand, if only for tonight. At least it made for an interesting evening.

“Having a good time?”

The question seemed almost preposterous coming out of her mouth, but Eve allowed it anyway. Glancing to her left, she found the same sheet from before (though it resembled more a figure now) floating beside her.

No feet. Oh heavens, did that trick come with the afterlife?

A pleased hum rolled into Eve’s ears and she watched the ghost bob a moment longer before lifting her drink with shaky hands.

“To you then. Happy Spirit’s Eve.”


End file.
